


I'll Go (Even Though I May Not Like It)

by artificialmac



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 06:41:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18405212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificialmac/pseuds/artificialmac
Summary: Brock contemplates his relationship with Jose. They come to conclusions, and don't at the same time.





	I'll Go (Even Though I May Not Like It)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song "Happier" by Bastille.

_Lately, I've been, I've been thinking  
I want you to be happier, I want you to be happier_

Brock didn’t know what he was doing here.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He knew exactly why he was standing outside Jose’s apartment. It had been a long day. Everything that could have gone wrong, did. His flight had been delayed almost 10 hours, there was a screaming baby next to him on the plane, and he didn’t even have any coffee. 

The day had been shit, and he wanted to talk about it. 

He should have called Nina. He should have gone to anyone else. But he was here. After all these months, and FaceTime calls, and longing glances across interviews. It all culminated here. 

On Jose’s doorstep.

_When the morning comes_  
_When we see what we've become_

They had done this dance before. Jose had called.

It was always Jose who called. 

Usually he was drunk, or lonely, or both. Mostly both.

But Brock ended up here more times than he could count. 

_In the cold light of day, we're a flame in the wind_  
_Not the fire that we've begun_

He didn’t knock yet. He doesn’t know what makes this time so hard.

Maybe because he didn’t want sex. It made it easier to knock if it were just sex. This wasn’t that. This was different. Brock wanted to talk to Jose, not just about his shitty day, but about everything. About his cats and his hopes and how much he cares for Jose. But Jose didn’t want that. Clearly, or he would have communicated that by now.

_Every argument, every word we can't take back_  
_'Cause with all that has happened_  
_I think that we both know the way that this story ends_

Brock wasn’t an idiot, contrary to popular belief. He knew that this “thing” whatever it was, couldn’t end well. 

If only he could get the balls to just TALK to Jose.

But it was easier said than done.

Regardless of all that though, Brock knocks.

_Then only for a minute_  
_I want to change my mind_  
_'Cause this just don't feel right to me_

He waits and waits, and right when he starts to think that maybe knocking on your ex’s door at 2 in the morning isn’t a good idea. The face he had come to think of as home, appeared. Brock tried not to immediately pull the younger man into his arms, but he failed.

He failed miserably.

Clearly Jose was taken aback, but after a few moments, he melted into the familiar embrace. It felt good, it felt right.

And god didn’t that just kick Brock in the gut.

_I wanna raise your spirits_  
_I want to see you smile but_  
_Know that means I'll have to leave_

Brock pulled away, trying to wipe a stray tear before Jose could see them. He was not as slick as he seemed, because the face Jose made was one of pity, and understanding all at once.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

They stood there for a moment, not saying anything with words.

“Come in.” Jose finally muttered.

Brock shuffled through the door, trying not to focus on where their bodies brushed against each other.

He stood in the familiar living room, hands moving from his pockets to his legs to his pockets again.

“I’m sorry to be here so late.”

“It’s fine.” Brock didn’t believe him. The way he kept rubbing his eyes gave away how tired he really was. “Are you ok?”

Brock laughed out loud at that. A half-sob made its way out at the same time. “No. Not at all.” He made the mistake of looking Jose in the eyes at that moment.

_I want you to be happier, I want you to be happier_

“I don’t know what I was thinking coming here.” A lie.

Jose walked over from where he was idling by the door to stand directly in front of his taller counterpart. He grabbed the Canadian’s hands.

“I missed you too.”

Brock desperately wants to tell him.

It’s not just that. It’s everything. I missed more than you, I missed YOU. I missed the way your breath smells like coffee always, and how you can’t be bothered to do your hair in the mornings, and how people think you can’t be quiet, but you only ever whisper to me.

_When the evening falls_  
_And I'm left there with my thoughts_

They had been giving hints on social media every now and then. A public flirty comment on a post was usually followed by a private text. Usually a compliment or a general “How are you?” but all the other communication paled in comparison to having the real thing in front of him. The real Jose. Not Vanjie, or Vanessa, but Jose. As he was. Quiet, and loving, and so incredibly perfect in Brock’s arms. It hurt more than it should to hear Jose’s words.

Brock pulled away, not so far as to push the younger queen off, but enough to take in Jose’s full appearance. An oversized t-shirt that barely came to the top of his thighs.

“You done lookin? I’m feeling a bit like chopped liver over here.” Jose tried to joke.

But Brock could only process so much at a time. 

“Hey.” Jose tapped the side of his head. “What’s goin on up here?”

“I don’t think I can keep doing this.”

That was not what Jose was expecting, as he stepped back like he had been burned.

“Whaddya mean?”

Brock dropped his hands now. “This, this thing between us. It isn’t going to work.” Brock isn’t saying this right. “You and I both know you could never…”

“I could never what?” Jose’s voice had taken on a harsh tone. Accusatory, and this is not going at all how Brock intended. He just wanted Jose to be happy, and clearly, he was having the opposite effect.

_And the image of you being with someone else_  
_Well, it's eating me up inside_

“Forget it. I shouldn’t have come.” Brock made to move past Jose but was stopped by the very body he was trying to avoid. Brock stopped, and Jose placed his hands lightly on his chest, almost as if he feared spooking the older queen. He traced the planes of Brock’s chest. Slowly, so slowly, they rested on top of his pounding heart.

“Please don’t go.” Jose whispered. “I dunno know how you’re feeling. You gotta tell me.”

_But we ran our course, we pretended we're okay_  
_Now if we jump together, at least we can swim_  
_Far away from the wreck we made_

Brock wants to scream. 

I can’t keep chasing you. I can’t keep living my life waiting to see you. It hurts too much.

_Then only for a minute_  
_I want to change my mind_

I can’t be the only one in love.

He wants to say. He wants to scream. He wants to kiss the man in front of him.

_'Cause this just don't feel right to me_  
_I wanna raise your spirits_

Brock does the last one. The meeting of their lips is slow, but he tries to channel everything from the past few months into it. 

_I want to see you smile but_  
_Know that means I'll have to leave_

Brock finally pulls away for air and rests his head against Jose’s. Their exhales are the only audible sound in the apartment. 

Other than Brock’s heart breaking in his chest, which sounds so loud in his head that he wonders if Jose can hear it too.

He almost asks.

_I want you to be happier, I want you to be happier_

Brock presses one last kiss to the top of Jose’s head, before walking to the door. 

This time, he isn’t stopped.

_So I'll go, I'll go_

_I will go, go, go_

The cool air hitting his face is sobering, and unwelcome. He stands outside for a moment, breathing in and out, trying his best to not turn back around and run into the man he loves’ arms.

_I want you to be happier, I want you to be happier_  
_Even though I might not like this_  
_I think that you'll be happier, I want you to be happier_

His instincts pushed aside for now, and with the resolve that this will be better for the both of them, he is given the last push to leave.

_Then only for a minute (Only for a minute)_  
_I want to change my mind_  
_'Cause this just don't feel right to me (Right to me)_

And if at night he sits up thinking about all the ways he fucked up that night, he won’t mention it. He will grin and bear the nosy interviews, relentless tagging in posts, and the overwhelming loneliness.

_So I'll go, I'll go_  
_I will go, go, go_

And so, he went.


End file.
